Conformation Faults

by Bonnie Bryant

  But Lisa was practical enough not to waste much time on that sort of wishful thinking. She just wished she knew how to proceed—how to find a way to forgive Carole completely and get their friendship back on track. If that’s what Carole wants, that is, she added.

  Lisa sighed and forced herself to return her attention to her mother, who was busy unveiling a large tissue-wrapped item she had pulled out of her second bag. That self-satisfied little smile was still on her face as she glanced at Lisa with an almost mischievous gleam in her brown eyes. “But that’s not all,” she said. “Since you were getting a new outfit, I thought I ought to have one, too. Fair’s fair, right?” She held up another dress. This one was in her own size, pearl gray with shell buttons.

  Lisa blinked. She couldn’t see the price tag on her mother’s new dress, but she suspected it was just as expensive as her own. While shopping had remained one of Mrs. Atwood’s favorite pastimes even after the divorce, she rarely indulged anymore in this kind of impulse buying. What had brought on this sudden extravagance?

  “That’ll look great on you, Mom,” Lisa said.

  “Thanks, sweetie.” Mrs. Atwood held the soft gray dress against herself and preened self-consciously in the hallway mirror, brushing her hair off her forehead and pursing her lips appraisingly at her own reflection.

  As she watched, Lisa decided that maybe she shouldn’t spend so much time analyzing her mother’s behavior. She should just be thankful that she seemed happier than she had in ages and let it go at that.

  After all, Mom deserves a little indulgence once in a while, she thought, studying the lines around her mother’s eyes and mouth, the result of too many grim and lonely days and nights since Mr. Atwood had moved out. She’s been working extra hard lately. As if her regular hours aren’t tough enough, now that jerk has her doing inventory until the middle of the night, too. Lisa shook her head and frowned slightly at the thought. The night before, Lisa’s mother hadn’t gotten home until almost midnight, even though the mall closed at nine-thirty. When she spends her Saturday night like that, it’s no wonder she needs a little cheering up now and then. Right?

  She bit her lip. Besides, it’s not like I don’t have enough problems of my own right now, she thought a little defensively. Not only was there the situation with Carole, compounded by Lisa’s almost constant sense of worry about Prancer’s pregnancy, but most of her other friends seemed to be having troubles of one sort or another. Phil’s best friend, A.J., was acting weird, though nobody quite knew why. The only thing they knew was that the fun-loving, friendly A.J. they’d all known had been replaced by a silent, sullen A.J. who spent most of his time brooding in his room. Stevie and Phil had been so worried that they’d started looking for any solution they could find. The day before, they had arranged for all of A.J.’s friends to gather at his house to confront him and try to find out what was going on with him. An intervention, Stevie had called it. Lisa, however, couldn’t help thinking of it as more of a confrontation, since they didn’t know what was wrong with A.J. or how to help him. All they could hope was that if he realized how many friends he had and how worried about him they were, he would tell them what was wrong. Then they could all try to find a solution together. Lisa and her boyfriend, Alex, had attended the event, but as it turned out, it hadn’t done much good. As soon as he’d realized what was happening, A.J. had escaped to his room, locked the door, turned up the stereo, and that had been the end of that.

  At the same time, Lisa had found out about another disaster, this time involving a newer friend, Callie Forester. Callie’s family had moved to town several months earlier, and the week before, a friend from her old hometown on the West Coast had come for a visit. Upon her return home, the girl had written a gossipy tell-all article for her local newspaper. The article had been picked up by the national press, probably because Callie’s father, a congressman, had recently signed on to be the head of a controversial new welfare committee. He and the rest of the family had been terribly embarrassed by the article, but no one had been hurt more than Callie herself. Not only were all her most personal secrets printed in black and white for the entire nation to read, but it had all come about because one of her oldest friends in the world had betrayed her trust.

  And then there was Alex.…

  Suddenly Lisa noticed that her mother had turned away from the mirror and was looking at her. “Darling,” Mrs. Atwood said, “why don’t you go slip into your new dress? We should make sure it fits.”

  “All right,” Lisa agreed. Playing dress-up was the last thing she felt like doing. She had that history paper to finish and a dozen calculus problems to do. But her mother looked so eager, so happy, and she had so little happiness in her life at the moment.… “I’ll go put it on right now.”

  She hurried back up the stairs and down the hall to her bedroom. Tossing the new dress on her neat, rose-patterned bedspread, she automatically started pulling off her sweater. But her mind had already returned to its previous topic.

  A few years ago Lisa would have laughed at the idea that Alex Lake would turn out to be her soul mate. Alex had always been around, but it hadn’t been until the year before that Lisa had started to notice him as something more than Stevie’s smart, athletic, slightly goofy twin brother. All of a sudden she had realized that he was his own unique, special person, and around that same time something in the way he looked at her had hinted that he, too, had begun to see her differently. In the midst of her heartache and confusion over her parents’ breakup, her father’s remarriage, and the birth of her baby sister, falling in love with Alex had come as a wonderful, refreshing surprise—like stepping out of a stuffy, dark, overheated room into a crisp, breezy autumn morning.

  Her relationship with Alex had only grown stronger and deeper since then. That was why she was so troubled by the secret that lay between them now. Lisa had been doing her best to bury this particular concern deep down in the recesses of her mind, not wanting to deal with it when so many other things seemed more pressing. But she couldn’t ever quite forget that it was there, waiting, daring her to get too complacent. She knew she had to find a way to tell him soon, before too much more time had passed. If she didn’t, she would have to figure out how to live with the knowledge that their relationship, once so completely open and honest and trusting, now held a secret they didn’t share. She wasn’t sure she could tell him, especially when she thought of how he might react when he heard that she had almost decided to spend her senior year living with her father in California instead of returning home to Willow Creek, to him, but she wasn’t sure she had any choice.

  She quickly straightened the hem of the blue dress and surveyed herself critically in the full-length mirror on the back of her door. She had to admit that the dress didn’t look as strange as she had expected it would. In fact, she looked almost … snazzy. Sexy, even. She wondered what Alex would think if he ever saw her in it.

  “Not that I have anyplace to wear it,” she muttered to her own reflection. She and Alex often attended the dances that were held at Willow Creek High School, where she was a senior, and at Fenton Hall, the private school where he was a junior. While students at both schools tended to dress up a bit more than normal for the dances, a fancy party dress like the one Lisa was wearing would be as out of place as a mule at the Kentucky Derby. “And it’s not exactly the kind of thing I’d wear to the stable or the movie theater at the mall.”

  She grinned as she imagined Max’s expression if she turned up to muck out stalls in that getup. Maybe I should get a matching gold-plated pitchfork, she thought a bit giddily. Or a special dressy hard hat with sequins and bows. She shook her head, amused at her own silly thoughts. Maybe her mother’s rare good mood was rubbing off on her.

  That reminded her that her mother was waiting downstairs to see her in her new finery. Giving herself one last glance in the mirror, she headed for the door.

  “Ta-daaa!” Lisa hurried down the last few steps with her arms spread wide, read
y to twirl and pose to her mother’s heart’s content. But she stopped short, her face turning pink, when she realized that her mother wasn’t alone.

  “Look, Lisa!” Mrs. Atwood cried cheerily. “Another nice surprise. Carole’s here!”

  Carole was casting Mrs. Atwood a sidelong glance, looking a bit startled at the woman’s high spirits. Lisa was feeling plenty startled herself. She gulped, wondering what Carole was doing there. Had she come to make up, to apologize? Lisa had begun to wonder whether Carole even remembered they were fighting—she had barely cast Lisa a glance the day before when they were all at A.J.’s.

  “Hi,” Carole said tentatively as Lisa stepped forward. “Um, can we talk?”

  “I don’t know,” Lisa replied warily. “Do we have anything to talk about?”

  Mrs. Atwood was sizing Lisa up, beaming contentedly, completely unaware of the tension between the two girls. “Oh, darling!” she exclaimed. “I was right. That dress is absolutely perfect on you!”

  “Thanks, Mom.” Lisa forced herself to keep her voice normal. She wished her mother would go away so that she and Carole could say what they really wanted to say, whatever that might be, but she didn’t dare suggest it. Mrs. Atwood was so sensitive, and the last thing Lisa wanted to do was ruin her good mood.

  Mrs. Atwood reached to adjust the collar of Lisa’s dress. “All right then,” she said. “You’d better take it off and hang it up before it gets wrinkled. Why don’t you two girls run along upstairs and do that? I’m dying for a cup of tea.”

  “Okay,” Lisa said, hardly daring to believe her luck. For once, it seemed, her mother wasn’t desperate for her company. That was certainly unusual, but she wasn’t about to question it. “See you later, Mom.”

  “It’s lovely to see you as always, Carole,” Mrs. Atwood said. “Now you make sure Lisa hangs up that dress right away, okay? Don’t get her talking about horses so she forgets.”

  “I won’t,” Carole promised with a smile that looked a bit forced.

  Mrs. Atwood smiled back. Then she headed toward the kitchen, humming under her breath.

  Once the two girls were alone, Carole turned back to Lisa, her large, deep brown eyes serious once again. “I’ve been thinking,” she said earnestly. “I feel terrible that we’ve been fighting.”

  Lisa wasn’t sure what to say. She felt bad about their fight, too. But she couldn’t help remembering how it had started—Carole had kept an important secret from her. “Me too,” she said. “But the thing with Prancer—”

  “I know,” Carole interrupted. “That was mostly my fault, I guess.” She shifted her feet nervously and bit her lip. “Things have just been so busy lately, with work and school and Samson’s training.… I’m not making excuses. I’m just trying to explain. But mostly I’m trying to say that I’m really sorry for what happened.”

  Her face and voice were so sincere, so completely Carole-like in their trusting hopefulness, that Lisa softened immediately. Suddenly everything she’d been so angry about didn’t seem quite as important anymore—not as important as a four-year friendship, anyway. Maybe Mom’s mood really is rubbing off on me, she thought. “Why don’t we go upstairs?” she said to Carole. “If I don’t put this dress away, Mom will freak out. Then we can talk.”

  Carole nodded quickly. “That would be great.”

  Neither girl said a word as they walked up the stairs together and entered Lisa’s room. Pushing the door closed, Lisa headed for her desk and perched on the edge of the chair. Carole seemed slightly uncomfortable. Instead of flopping into the rose-patterned lounge chair as she usually did, she hovered near the door, leaning tentatively against Lisa’s dresser.

  “Well,” Lisa said after another moment of silence. “Um …”

  “I’m really sorry,” Carole said in a rush. “I should have known you’d be worried about Prancer. I should have realized how you’d be feeling.”

  You should have told me the truth, Lisa thought. But she didn’t say it. “Well,” she said instead, “I wish Max hadn’t asked you not to tell anyone. I really thought Prancer must be horribly sick or dying or something, since no one was talking.”

  “I know.” Carole looked contrite. “That wasn’t fair. I know Max wanted to keep this quiet, but sometimes secrets are more trouble than they’re worth, you know?”

  “I know.” Lisa’s mind flashed to Alex for a moment. But she pushed the thought aside. “I just wish you’d trusted me. You know I wouldn’t have breathed a word to anyone if I knew Max didn’t want people to know.”

  “I know that,” Carole said. “I guess maybe I just forgot. Or I was confused, you know? Trying to do the right thing … Anyway, I don’t blame you for being mad and everything. But I wanted you to know why I did what I did. It wasn’t because I’m a bad friend, or because I didn’t care about your feelings.”

  Lisa winced as she remembered some of the horrible things she’d said to Carole during their fight. “I’m sorry, too,” she said. “For the stuff I said, I mean. I know you’ve been busy.” That wasn’t an excuse for what Carole had done, but Lisa knew it wouldn’t do any good for her to hold a grudge. What had happened had happened, and all they could do now was take it from there. If that meant compromising a little, letting Carole off the hook a bit too easily, so be it. “Anyway, I’m just glad Prancer’s not sick.” She paused. “Although this twin thing is pretty scary, isn’t it?”

  Carole nodded. “Sure, but we’ll get her through it,” she said. “And listen, while we’re on the subject of secrets, there’s something else I think you should know.”

  As Lisa shifted in her seat, the fabric of her dress rustled around her legs. Suddenly remembering her promise to her mother, she stood and reached around to unhook the closure in the back. “What is it?” she asked, her voice slightly muffled by the fabric as she slipped the dress off over her head.

  “It’s something else about Prancer.” Carole’s voice suddenly sounded brighter. “Something great. Max made me promise not to tell anybody this part, either, but I figure it’s the least I owe you after putting you through all that stuff with her pregnancy and everything.…”

  Still holding the dress, Lisa shook her hair back and stared at Carole. She wasn’t sure she was ready for another surprise today. “What is it?”

  Carole was grinning. “Max and your dad have been talking for a couple of months now,” she said. “It’s all arranged. Well, almost, you know, except maybe for some final financial details or whatever. I guess there’s no real rush with that, since they weren’t going to tell you until your birthday, and I know your dad wants it to be a big surprise, but I thought it would help you get through the next few months while Prancer’s out of commission, and so I thought if I told you—”

  “Told me what?” Lisa demanded impatiently, clutching the dress so tightly that the fabric started to wrinkle. At times like this, Carole could be awfully aggravating. She tended to talk in circles and interrupt herself so often that whatever she was saying got completely lost in the shuffle. “What are you talking about?”

  “Prancer, of course,” Carole replied matter-of-factly. “Your dad’s going to buy her for you. Once her foals are weaned, she’ll be all yours!”

  TWO

  “Callie’s really making great progress, isn’t she?” Carole commented, leaning on the fence of Pine Hollow’s main outdoor schooling ring. Her gaze was trained on a tall, blond girl aboard a sturdy palomino. Watching Callie Forester riding around the ring on PC right then, it would have been impossible for a stranger to tell that she was still suffering from residual brain damage as the result of a bad car accident. Even Carole was having trouble seeing the weakness in Callie’s right side, and she knew exactly what to look for. She had followed the other girl’s recovery every step of the way. It was only natural, since she had been in the car at the time of the accident a few months earlier.

  Stevie, who was perched on the fence a couple of feet away, nodded. “She’s amazing, isn’t she?” She shook her
head, her voice deep with admiration. “When Callie puts her mind to something, it gets done.”

  “Of course, we should probably give Emily some of the credit, too,” Carole reminded Stevie, glancing at the other rider in the ring with Callie. Their friend Emily Williams had been born with cerebral palsy, and she couldn’t walk without crutches. But that hadn’t stopped her from becoming an accomplished rider, with a little help from PC, who had been specially trained to compensate for his rider’s physical differences. Emily’s expertise and support—not to mention her cheerful, unwavering encouragement—had been instrumental in Callie’s relatively rapid recovery. At the moment, she was sitting aboard Patch, one of Max’s gentlest school horses, watching with rapt attention as Callie cantered around her on PC.

  Carole watched the workout in the ring silently for a moment or two. Then Stevie glanced over at her. “By the way,” she said, “it was cool what you did yesterday. Going over to apologize to Lisa, I mean. She can be pretty scary when she’s mad at someone.” She shuddered elaborately. “Believe me, I know.”

  Carole shrugged. “It wasn’t that big a deal,” she muttered. She still felt a little bit uncomfortable about the whole incident. Their fight had gone on for longer than she’d quite realized at the time, which probably explained why Stevie seemed so relieved that it was over now. Carole supposed that was partly her fault. She had been terribly upset for the first day or so after the fight, but then, somehow, she had gotten distracted for a couple of days. She figured that probably had something to do with how busy she was at the stable with Samson’s training and everything else. And of course, worrying about that stupid history test hadn’t helped much, either. In any case, it had taken Lisa’s cold glares on Saturday to really bring their problems back to the front of her mind. After stewing about it a little bit longer, she had finally decided that the best thing to do was just to apologize, which seemed to be what Lisa wanted. She had wanted to end this fight before it got any farther out of hand.